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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591716">What I want you to understand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esoteric05/pseuds/Esoteric05'>Esoteric05</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In my journal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sad Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:34:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esoteric05/pseuds/Esoteric05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Decided to vent about my feelings and place them onto Wilbur’s persona.</p><p>Not based on Wilbur’s persona but it does deal with mental illness on someone else.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>None</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In my journal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What I want you to understand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Are you really gonna take it like that?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Riding on the missile with the cowboy hat, and</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well the world is gonna end</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So dance around the fire that we once believed in--"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>I stared up at the ceiling, my body shakes, trembling.</p><p> </p><p>My heart beats as if running a full-on marathon.</p><p> </p><p>My breath is rapid and I take in stuttering inhale.</p><p> </p><p>My mouth quivers.</p><p> </p><p>My hands form themselves into a fist and bury them into my eyes because I'm crying even though I never meant to cry.</p><p> </p><p>I went up the stairs to lock myself in my bedroom with my pet dog, his name is Oliver.</p><p> </p><p>I grabbed ahold of my phone and plugged in my headphones and quickly pulled up songs, any songs to listen to distract myself from the voices downstairs.</p><p> </p><p>And though the music is loud enough to block out anything, it does not block out the pounding, the stomping, the yelling.</p><p> </p><p>I wrapped myself up in a blanket, with my hand petting my dog's fur, I close my eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think I can do this," I whisper to myself. "No...No! I-I <em>can</em> do this. It will all turn out better in the end, right?" I asked myself, questioning myself, thinking to myself.</p><p> </p><p>The feelings that I contain stay inside me, they never spill out, I only help others through their difficult times.</p><p> </p><p>When they're going through a heartbreak, when they're going through thoughts, when they're going through pain, when they're going through separation, when they're going through meeting the end of the world.</p><p> </p><p>I continue to do that so no one I know knows that I'm going through something just as bad as them.</p><p> </p><p>I continue to do that so no one I know knows that my family and I are people who are broken.</p><p> </p><p>It's something that I've got to deal with alone because no one would understand.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, when I get home, their sudden outbursts, I think that's what's triggered me the most out of life but It's not as if something is out to attack you, it's just anger and fear but there is a force shield and I think it's called love.</p><p> </p><p>When there are sudden outbursts, it's total fear and <em>only</em> fear, worry for me. In the movies, when someones in danger of some sort, they freeze up, they breathe heavily but also hold their breath to make sure they don't make a single sound, It's the same thing for me but it's not as if something is out to attack you.</p><p> </p><p>So, I got up the next morning. I took out the earbuds from my ears, rubbed at my eyes until they weren't so blurry, and got myself up to change, make myself some breakfast, which is <em>always</em> cereal.</p><p> </p><p>I brush my teeth after, I get on my backpack, I walk out the door, and head to my bus stop.</p><p> </p><p>I stand there, my eyes looking down at my shoes where the pavement stands. I side glance at the other kids also waiting for the bus and then I start thinking.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They know.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They must know.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Noone's ever gonna be my friend again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>In the distance, I see the bus rounding around the corner and stopping right beside us.</p><p> </p><p>I get on the bus first because if you want to sit by yourself, you have to make sure you get the empty seat first before the others behind you do.</p><p> </p><p>I take the fifth seat on the right side as always. I lean my head against the window and watch as the scenery zooms and changes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The yelling.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He did it again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It's that time of year again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The hole in the wall.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It's there.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't invite your friends over.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The kids on the bus talk and talk and do more talking so I block them out with my earbuds. Music is the only way of escaping, I guess.</p><p> </p><p>When the bus arrives at school, I hop off, heading towards the entrance. My friends try to get my attention but I ignore them and pretend I didn't hear them, I wish I hadn't 'cuz now they'll be asking me what's wrong.</p><p> </p><p>I hate that question.</p><p> </p><p>I kept walking down the hallway, passing myself through all the kids getting to their lockers. I get to mine and head to class, sit down, and didn't say anything, until, I had to.</p><p> </p><p>I broke down, apparently, that's what happened. I cried in class, at my desk, at school. The kids around me all had that look on their faces whenever someone cries, I pity it because, yeah, true fact, it makes you cry harder but that question I said I hated came up again.</p><p> </p><p>It was honestly so embarrassing for me that I ran to the restroom to cry there and <em>only</em> there.</p><p> </p><p>I looked at myself in the mirror to see that my eyes have gone red and the tear tracks are wet and visible. I kept wiping them away but they kept coming back.</p><p> </p><p>I splashed water on my face to get refreshed.</p><p> </p><p>  I had no idea how much time passed by because my teacher I had for class walked in, they looked at me with that look like all the kids in the classroom gave me but this was different. They walked over to me and asked,</p><p> </p><p>"Was it what we discussed in class?"</p><p> </p><p>"...Yeah..." I said.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry, It must be hard for you to hear things like that."</p><p> </p><p>I explained to them what I was going through, I sniffled while I looked down at the gross bathroom floor.</p><p> </p><p>"I understand how you are feeling,"</p><p> </p><p>I looked up at the teacher and looked them in the eye. Their eyes looked at mine back, something I couldn't explain.</p><p> </p><p>"I have a son the same way and my daughter never invites her friends over when he's like that. It's hard to predict when stuff like that happens. I'm sorry you have to go through something like that for your age,"</p><p> </p><p>They open their arms up for me and I never second doubted.</p><p> </p><p>I wrapped my arms around them and cried into their shoulder as they smoothly and gently rubbed their hand up and down my back until I had no more to cry for.</p><p> </p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut and squeezed in the hug one more time before opening up my eyes again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'll never forget this moment.</em>
</p>
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